The Great Song Dynasty's Soul-Forging in Progress

The woman on the right was a stark contrast. She wore a pristine, sky-blue silk dress, as if formed from morning mountain mist. Her cascading black hair was simply tied back with a plain ribbon, adorned with a few silver hairpins that shimmered with a subtle, fleeting light as she moved. Her face was delicate and beautiful, her skin as white as snow, but her eyes were most captivating—not the ordinary clear, bright pupils, but those that held the unique insight and compassion of a physician, so clear they seemed to see into the depths of the heart, yet so profound they seemed to hold the secrets of countless herbal remedies. Her every movement carried a transcendent rhythm, her fingertips exuding a faint medicinal fragrance, and the blue cloth medicine pouch at her waist was embroidered with barely visible magnolia blossoms.

Zhao Zongyuan felt those eyes sweep over him, and his flirtatious thoughts were laid bare, as if they had seen right through him. He felt a sudden tightness in his chest and almost dropped his folding fan.

These two beauties, one strong and the other gentle, one fiery and the other serene, were neither caged canaries. Qin Tiehua's heroic spirit reminded him of the iron-blooded passion in frontier poems, while Liu Xinyi's ethereal beauty allowed him to glimpse the refined character of a reclusive sage.

Zhao Zongyuan, who prided himself on having seen countless beauties, now understood what it meant to be "unforgettable upon first sight".

His smile deepened, but the heat in his eyes subtly split into two—one was a naked possessiveness, and the other was a more complex, unnoticed, stirring feeling and… fear.

How could such a stunning beauty be found among the wild grasses and grasses of the countryside?

He withdrew his gaze, suppressed the surging emotions within him, and maintained the demeanor of a refined gentleman, smiling as he said:

"I am Zhao Zongyuan from the Prince of Xiangyang's Mansion. I have long admired your esteemed name, Your Highness, and have come here to make your acquaintance."

The Prince of Xiangyang's Mansion?

Wang Zhonghua sneered inwardly. Chen Shimei's powerful backer—his father-in-law—wasn't that none other than the Prince of Xiangyang? Was this young prince's appearance in Chenzhou a coincidence, or intentional?

His expression remained calm as he cupped his hands and said, "So it is Your Highness, the Crown Prince. I have been disrespectful."

Zhao Zongyuan snapped his folding fan shut, his gaze sweeping over Liu Xinyi's face again, and smiled:

"Young Master Wang is truly blessed. These two young ladies are..."

"They are my comrades from Sanyi Village," Wang Zhonghua interrupted calmly. "This is Qin Tiehua, the foreman of the blacksmith's workshop; this is Liu Xinyi, the female physician from Sansheng Cottage."

Zhao Zongyuan's eyes lit up, and he quickly cupped his hands in greeting: "Miss Qin, Miss Liu, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Qin Tiehua didn't even lift his eyelids, his hand on the hilt of his knife, coldly watching him.

Liu Xinyi bowed slightly, displaying impeccable manners, yet remained silent, her gaze calm as still water, yet revealing a distant and unapproachable air.

Zhao Zongyuan, feeling awkward, stiffened slightly with his smile. Behind him, a weasel-faced scholar named Liu Sanbian quickly stepped forward to smooth things over:

"Young Master has recently been studying the Book of Changes and has gained considerable insight into the principles of the Eight Trigrams. It's a rare opportunity to meet such a talented young man as Your Highness today; how about we exchange some pointers?"

Zhao Zongyuan's eyes lit up, and he quickly said, "Exactly, exactly!" He pointed to an ancient stele in front of the mausoleum, "The inscription on this stele is profound, and I have pondered it for many days without being able to understand it. Since you, young master, are well-versed in literature and knowledgeable about agriculture and the seasons, why don't you explain it to everyone?"

The inscription on the ancient stele was mottled and blurred from wind and sun exposure, making it difficult to decipher. He deliberately chose this stele, intending to embarrass Wang Zhonghua.

Wang Zhonghua glanced at it, a slight smile playing on his lips.

That's it?

Although he wasn't a STEM guy in his previous life, after transmigrating, he diligently studied numerous ancient texts to establish himself in this era. Besides, as an amateur writer, he had seen this monument in his research materials—

"This stele records the story of Fuxi establishing the marriage ceremony." He spoke slowly, his voice clear and resonant. "In ancient times, people knew of their mothers but not their fathers. Fuxi was the first to establish the marriage ceremony, using matching leather as a gift, establishing surnames, and facilitating matchmakers, thus emphasizing the fundamental principles of human relations."

He not only deciphered the inscriptions on the broken stele one by one, but also extended their deeper meanings, and even filled in the missing parts of the inscriptions, explaining them in a clear and concise manner.

The accompanying Confucian scholars nodded repeatedly, and one of them couldn't help but exclaim, "Wonderful! I've read this story before, but I didn't know it had such a profound meaning!"

Zhao Zongyuan's face stiffened.

He had intended to see Wang Zhonghua make a fool of himself, but unexpectedly, he ended up making Wang Zhonghua look good instead.

Seeing that the situation was turning sour, Liu Sanbian quickly tried to smooth things over: "The young prince has recently been studying the Book of Changes and has gained considerable insight into the principles of the Eight Trigrams..."

"Oh?" Liu Xinyi suddenly spoke.

Her voice was clear and melodious, like a jade chime, yet devoid of any warmth.

"I have a question I would like to ask Your Highness."

Zhao Zongyuan was taken aback, then quickly straightened his back and adopted a listening posture: "Please speak, young lady."

"Medical practitioners associate the Eight Trigrams with the Five Internal Organs, but they don't know which organ the Li trigram corresponds to, or what the rationale is behind this?"

Zhao Zongyuan was speechless.

How could he possibly know any of this? He can't even recite all the eight trigrams, yet he talks about "studying the Book of Changes," it's nothing but pretentious affectation.

He opened his mouth, stammering, "This... the Li hexagram... should be..."

Liu Xinyi looked at him quietly. Her clear eyes held no mockery or contempt, only a calm gaze, like looking at a student who had misread his text.

But it was precisely this calm that made Zhao Zongyuan even more embarrassed.

Liu Xinyi waited three breaths, and seeing that he couldn't speak, she slowly began to speak:

"Li represents fire, which corresponds to the heart. The heart governs the blood vessels and stores the spirit, much like the light of fire that warms the whole body. Since Your Highness has studied the Book of Changes, you should understand this principle."

Her tone was calm, yet it made Zhao Zongyuan feel utterly ashamed.

The scholars behind him exchanged glances, some smirking, others quietly shrinking back, afraid of being implicated.

Qin Tiehua stood to the side, a slight smile playing on her lips. Although she didn't understand the language, seeing Zhao Zongyuan's discomfiture filled her with inexplicable satisfaction. She quietly tugged at Wang Zhonghua's sleeve and whispered:

"Sister Liu is amazing."

Wang Zhonghua nodded with a smile.

Liu Xinyi usually keeps a low profile, but her mind is filled with the essence of medical skills passed down through two generations of the Liu family, and the classic texts she has read extensively during her more than ten years of seclusion in the mountains. Trying to act like an expert in front of her is simply asking for humiliation.

Zhao Zongyuan's face flushed red and then paled, his folding fan creaking as he gripped it. He took a deep breath and forced a smile:

"Miss Liu is indeed... truly learned. If I have the opportunity another day, I will certainly pay her a visit to seek her guidance."

Liu Xinyi gave a slight bow and remained silent.

The meaning couldn't be clearer—no need.

Zhao Zongyuan was humiliated, but he was unwilling to leave in such a dejected manner.

His eyes darted around, and he added, "Young Master Wang, I've heard that your 'Drunken Eight Immortals' is famous throughout Chenzhou. I'm quite curious. I wonder if you could sample some at the victory celebration banquet?"

Wang Zhonghua sneered inwardly. Was this someone trying to get revenge at the banquet?

He said calmly, "Since Your Highness has honored me, this humble subject will naturally offer my tribute."

"Very well!" Zhao Zongyuan closed his folding fan. "Then I'll be waiting."

He turned to leave, but suddenly stopped and looked back at the "Jinghong" sword at Qin Tiehua's waist:

"Miss Qin's knife looks quite impressive. I also have some knowledge of swordsmanship; would it be possible for me to take a look?"

Qin Tiehua placed his hand on the hilt of the knife and said coldly, "This knife recognizes its master; outsiders are not allowed to touch it."

Zhao Zongyuan's smile froze.

Qin Tiehua continued, "This knife of mine has killed bandits and seen blood. Your Highness is of noble birth, so it's best if you don't touch it. If you were to be tainted by its malevolent energy, it would bring you bad luck."

These words were spoken without any politeness; it was practically a direct accusation of "Who do you think you are?"

Zhao Zongyuan's face darkened completely. The scholars behind him gasped—this country girl dared to speak to the young prince like that?

But Qin Tiehua dared to do it.

She stood there, her hand on the hilt of the knife, her gaze sharp as a blade, unyielding.

Wang Zhonghua chuckled inwardly, but said outwardly, "Please forgive me, Your Highness. Tie Hua is straightforward and doesn't mince words. However, this knife is indeed stained with blood. Your Highness is of noble birth, so it's best not to touch it."

Zhao Zongyuan took a deep breath and forced a smile that looked more like a grimace:

"Very good, very good. As expected, each of Young Master Wang's men is...unique."

With a flick of his sleeve, he led a group of Confucian scholars and prepared to leave.

"Wait a minute—" Liu Sanbian said with a smile, "Young Master Wang, why be so modest? Your explanation of the broken stele has truly broadened our horizons. I heard that you once wrote a poem that was widely circulated when you were selling wine in Chenzhou. Perhaps you could write another one today so that we can witness your elegant demeanor?" He deliberately emphasized the words "elegant demeanor," and the sarcasm in his tone was self-evident.

The scholars beside him immediately understood—to compose poetry in front of Liu Sanbian was tantamount to showing off one's knowledge in front of Confucius and wielding a sword in front of Guan Yu.

Everyone burst into laughter.